File: Thomas Waffles.png (83 KB, 463x389)

83 KB PNG

>>681893

And, so, you do just that: you thrown on your well-worn boots; your trusty pants with plenty of pockets; a comfortable and stylish, but practical, shirt of fine wool (accidentally stolen from the last place you crashed at in the city); and your faded cap that you’ve had for some time now. In the room’s mirror you get the impression that you look the image of someone that could get their hands dirty on a farm. That makes you smile. You could use a shave but you decide to pass for now. Otherwise, you groom yourself well but efficiently, pack up, and head downstairs.

You are filled with a happy, nervous, churning excitement in your gut. Or maybe you’re just really hungry - as you’re walking by Lia in the second floor hallway your belly decides to announce your presence particularly loudly. The great, gurgling squelch of a growl catches Lia off guard. You're not sure if she's being coy or polite, because she says she “did not hear that,“ and asks you to “please repeat your statement.”

You make a hasty remark about the weather and then hurry yourself away. You note the slightest upward tick to Lia's smile. Also, she is once again wearing an apron but this time it is accompanied by a not-quite traditional maid’s uniform. You approve.

In the main lobby you fine Allen and, surprisingly, Mayor Thomas engaging in some idle chitchat while the mayor sips down something in a porcelain cup. The two of them happily greet you and ask after your night. You say it was a pleasant stay and compliment the inn. You especially enjoyed the…

A. Eager service
B. Comfy beds
C. Staff uniform
D. Unique name
E. Write-in

The mayor offers to sit with you for breakfast, but you opt to take it on the run. You say that you’d like to get to the farm and check it out if possible. The mayor is excited to hear this and offers to drive you there to save time. That’s a tempting offer - it’s early enough that there isn’t much else to do in town, but you don’t have all day to sit around and wait, either. Either way, Allen has hopped back into the kitchen to grab you something tasty to eat.

A. Accept the mayor’s offer; get to the farm and get down to business!
B. Decline. Heading there yourself gives you an opportunity to learn the lay of the land and run into your new neighbors.

>>681899
>A. Eager service
>A. Accept the mayor’s offer; get to the farm and get down to business!
Yo mayor whats good

>>681899
>>A. Eager service
>>A. Accept the mayor’s offer; get to the farm and get down to business!
Lets get this party started

>>681899
>B. Comfy beds
>A. Accept the mayor’s offer; get to the farm and get down to business!

>>681899
>A. Eager service
>A. Accept the mayor’s offer; get to the farm and get down to business!

File: Mayor2.png (57 KB, 168x252)

57 KB PNG

>>681932
Happy Sunday to you, anon! I'm looking forward to questing.
>Whats good
The fact that things are back to normal after Hurricane Matthew. Thank you for asking! What's good with you?

>>681932
>>681936
>>681940
>>681949
>Party: Started
>Let's get down to business!
> ... And defeat the Huns?

>>681899
>A. Eager service
>A. Accept the mayor’s offer; get to the farm and get down to business!

Time to get farming!

>>681955
Im fine
Live in an actual bomb shelter so i could barely hear the rain.
I know a few of my friends in down south got wrekt.

File: Allen.jpg (48 KB, 420x1260)

48 KB JPG

>>682026
I'm glad you're safe and sound. You'll have to tell the tale of acquiring a bomb shelter sometime.

>>681899

You accept the mayor’s offer with thanks.

“We shall be on our way immediately, my new friend - after I finish my Earl-y Grey, of course.” The Mayor laughs at his own tiny, posh joke. His tiny, posh whiskers quiver with each chuckle. However, upon seeing that you did not quite “get” his joke, he deflates a bit. He asks you if you had ever had Earl Grey before; you assure him that you had not, no. Thomas promises to share cup with you some other day.

It is then that Allen comes back to the bar bearing a hearty egg sandwich, the bread toasted to a golden brown and arranged around a mouthful of seasoned, scallion and cheese-filled whipped eggs, thickly cut ham, and a dash of hot sauce. The scent of warm bread and the sight of warm, fluffy eggs sets your mouth to watering. You thank Allen with a firm clap on the back and tell him it looks delicious. Allen just waves you off with a smile and says it was a pleasant to meet you.

He wishes you luck and, your pleasant stay behind you, you’re off: you leave The Flaming Duck with the mayor and stroll on over to his car. Thomas’s pride and joy, his very own muscle car, is a fiery red mid-size in the classic style. It’s polished to a mirror finish. You idly wonder if the Mayor can see over the steering wheel.

Thankfully, he can. The car ambles along westward at a sensible pace and you, literally, chew over your life while watching the scenery pass by. The sandwich is good and filling.

Thomas offers a few tidbits about weather and happenings; he mentions the Town’s annual Egg Hunt that will be occurring soon, and hopes that you will participate in the Sky Festival towards the end of Spring. He also says that you should stop by the General Store sometime soon, as it sells most anything you could want or need.

A. Ask about the Egg Hunt
B. Ask about the Sky Festival

Eventually, you pull off the main road. Thomas explains that your farm is on this quiet dirt road, “just a short walk away from where Franc and Tara live, you see. The two of them are quite wonderful to have as neighbors, and I’m sure you’ll get along splendidly.”

A. Suggest concern about Tara's attitude towards you
B. Ask how long the two of them have lived in the valley
C. Ask if there is anyone else in particular you should get to know.
D. Write-in

>>682145
>A. Ask about the Egg Hunt
>C. Ask if there is anyone else in particular you should get to know

>>682145
>A. Ask about the Egg Hunt

We can always learn more about the Sky Festival closer to its date.

>B. Ask how long the two of them have lived in the valley
Maybe ask a bit more about them as well.

>>682145
>A
>C
can only phone post for now, glad to see this running.

>>682145
B. Ask about the Sky Festival

B. Ask how long the two of them have lived in the valley
C. Ask if there is anyone else in particular you should get to know.

>>682203
>>682246
>>682260
>>682299
>Writing

File: Farm1.jpg (99 KB, 720x540)

99 KB JPG

>>682319
>>682145

You’re looking forward to “getting along” with neighbors. You had friends in the service. You had brothers in arms. You didn’t have neighbors. And, for that matter, you didn’t live in the suburbs before the war - so you didn’t have too many neighbors back then, either.

“I’m glad you think so, Thomas,..." You pause, and consider the short, kind man driving next to you. He's an authority figure, and if the service taught you anything it was how to address authority. "Er, Mayor, sir. Excuse me.” You realize that, well, you’re a part of the town, now. Thomas is the mayor of the town: he’s the leader, the one in charge. He does deserve your respect, and so far he’s earned it in spades.

Thomas looks slightly bashful. “Ah, my boy, call me Thomas! Please! All of the residents in Sunnyvale are ‘in it’ together, Jacky. We are all a community. No need for titles, honors, or the such. Not amongst friends.”

“Understood, Thomas.” Friends. It’s nice. “Speaking of ‘friends,’ is there anyone else in town you would recommend I get to know? Anyone in particular? Allen seems very nice - as do Franc and Tara. I think I’ll see each of them a good amount. Not sure who else, though.”

“Ah, yes. Well, Jacky, I imagine you’ll be seeing the general store owner, Patrick, often enough. He, his son Richard, and his wife, Celeste run the General Store in town and are invaluable for getting a hold of the things you shall need to be successful as a farmer!”

“Successful as a farmer…” You think that one over for a bit. “I didn’t think I’d be buying too much - groceries, I suppose. Basic stuff. But, Thomas, I thought I would be doing the selling, mostly. What do I need to buy? Should I go do it today?”

“Hm-hm. Well, Jacky, you certainly have a good head on your shoulders; you’ve got good instincts, and that’s important. You will, most assuredly, be selling quite a bit. Richard will come by regularly and ‘ship out’ any goods for you. That will be a main source of income for you. Produce and materials and such, you see? And, in order to produce that produce (hah!), you will need to first grow it. You can buy seeds from Patrick’s.”

“Seeds. Got it. That’s the basics - I just plant, water, and wait.”

“Yes. Patience and hard work are the farmer’s greatest tools!” At this, Thomas gestures emphatically. “I would recommend purchasing and planting seeds today if possible. Wouldn’t you agree?”

>cont.

File: Richmond Farm.jpg (58 KB, 500x375)

58 KB JPG

>>682596

You, unsure, simply nod your head “yes.”

Thomas smiles. “Yes, you want to plant as soon as possible. As Roger explained it to me, seeds are generally only good for a specific season - if you wait too long? Plants growing outside of their given season will die, and you will be without produce. So, try to plant as soon as possible.”

It is at this point that you pull into the gravel driveway of the farm. It looks, in large part, just as you remember it from your childhood.

You and Thomas both start to unstrap and move out of the car. There is, however, one more thing you want to hear about before you really start touring the property.

“Thomas, you mentioned an Egg Hunt? Is that a regular celebration for the town? Can everyone attend?”

The squat mayor peeks up at you from behind the hood of the car. “Yes, absolutely! Everyone is encouraged to come and compete in the annual egg hunt! The winner gets a mighty valuable prize, might I add. To that end, you best bring your ‘A-Game’ if you wish to win this year, Jacky.”

Thomas looks pleased that you are interested in the festival. You make a mental note about this Egg Hunt. Privately, you think that it sounds...

A. Boring
B. Fun!
C. Like a good way to show these townsfolk who's boss
D. Like a good way to develop your "relationships" with the wome- townsfolk
E. Write-in

----

The driveway leads up to a old, but sizable, wooden house colored a rich red save for the shingled roof with its three peaks; the white porch and elegant railings, and the deep blue eaves. The house, overall, is put together in the old, coastal style.

The house, however, is not without its scars. You notice a few of the porch’s banisters are worn or damaged. One of the outdoor sets of shutters is damaged, and some of the paving stones leading up the house are badly chipped. Nothing too bad, so far, but you see where time has taken its toll.

That's when you notice movement in the main window on the east side of the house. You're not sure if it's just your imagination, or the light, or...

>Roll 1d20 if you want to try a perception check

“Richmond Farm is a charming little place. Wouldn’t you say so, Jacky?”

A. “I’m lucky to now call it home.”
B. “It could use some work.”
C. “Is there anyone in town that can help me work on the house?”
D. “Did my grandfather disallow work or upgrades to the house?”
E. "Is there anything weird or special about the house that I should know?"
F. "Is it haunted? It looks haunted."
G. Write-in

Rolled 3 (1d20)

>>682757
D. Like a good way to develop your "relationships" with the wome- townsfolk
B. Fun!

A. “I’m lucky to now call it home.
E. "Is there anything weird or special about the house that I should know?"

Rolled 2 (1d20)

>>682757
>B
>A

>>682757

>C. Like a good way to show these townsfolk who's boss

>A. “I’m lucky to now call it home.”
But
>B. “It could use some work.”

Rolled 1 (1d20)

Forgot

Holyshit these rolls.

File: c6313e715172a03c700fbf0e3(...).jpg (16 KB, 236x314)

16 KB JPG

>>682815
>>682826
>>682830
>>682839
[Oh dear!]

Who didn't make the sacrifices for those 20's last thread? I know i made mine... It was >>682830
You, wasn't it.

>>682888
Not that i was much better, i could only find a sheep, not a vagrant like i promised.

I wonder how this wil bite us in the ass later...

>>682757
B. Fun!
A. “I’m lucky to now call it home.”

File: Spoiler Image (9 KB, 640x640)

9 KB JPG

>>682757

"“Yeah, I would say this place is nice, Thomas."

Thomas hears you but chooses not to say anything. There is an important, sacred feeling to this moment. Thomas heads to the left, towards the main facade of the house to pace the front lawn. You walk around to the far side. You note the old, rusted mailbox and the weathered shipping box towards the road. You smile at the sight of the old hickory tree as you pass, a rope swing hanging from the main limb and playing in the breeze. The house, the property, everything - it has character, history, meaning. Yes, some work needs to be done, but that comes with the territory.

"I’m lucky to now call it home." You whisper to yourself, "Thank you, again, Grandfather.”

Your words, surely, are carried by the winds to the heavens above.

“To be honest, Jacky," Thomas calls, pulling you from your thoughts, "I’m simply glad someone will be breathing life into the place again.” You feel the same way. This place deserves to be lived in.

However, speaking of “life” in this place, there’s movement in the window again. You’re sure of it this time. You decide to investigate. You notice that Thomas is now walking over to join you.

“There’s nothing weird or unusual, or even special about the house that you can tell me about, Thomas? Did my grandfather keep anything running around?”

“Not that I’m aware of. Why do you ask?”

You feign ignorance. “Oh, nothing. Just curious.” You’re creeping up to the window, you can see something in the dark of the place…

There’s a rustle in the bushes next to you. You turn swiftly and look about. A dark form darts away from you, startling you. You utter a few swears internally. The animal (you’re pretty sure it's an animal) is running away on all fours and calling out weakly. It looked like a…

“A black cat?” You wonder idly. “Huh. Must have been a stray.”

>cont.

File: Spoiler Image (182 KB, 712x520)

182 KB PNG

>>683136

“Jacky!” It’s the mayor. He sounds concerned. You turn to see him waddling up to you quickly. “I do say, that was a black cat, wasn’t it?” You nod. Thomas looks even more concerned, now. “Drat… I was worried about that. You know what happens when a black cat crosses your path, yes? Bad luck falls upon you! We will have to give an offering to the Harvest Goddess quickly, yes, very quickly to remove your curse-”

You hear a noise inside the house coming from the window and turn towards it. The mayor, following your view, also looks towards the window. You are both delighted and terrified by what you see - Tara, the girl you just met yesterday, in your grandfather’s house wearing nothing more than a towel. A towel that is covering little more than her waist. Tara, oblivious to your presence, is facing the window and appears to be fixing herself a glass of water. A small, breathless gasp sounds out beside you. You look to the mayor.

He, too, looks like he has glimpsed heaven and hell in equal parts. “By the Harvest Goddess…” He utters. You agree with him. "We have crossed into the realm of heaven, Jacky. Stumbled upon the forbidden fruit...!"

You gawk unabashedly. The two of you, complicit in your accidental sin, know that this secret can never be known. You gaze upon the window and force the image to be burned upon your mind for all eternity. So that, years from now, you might remember the shape of those firm, melon-like, glorious… Harvest Goddess... You cannot pull your eyes away….

>Roll 1d20 to escape the FORBIDDEN TRANCE!

Rolled 6 (1d20)

and brofist the mayor. this is glorious.

Oh, leave some food out for the cat too. The black cat thing is a myth anyway, its just scared and hungry.

Rolled 4 (1d20)

>>683141

So like the dice aren't being nice today.

Rolled 18 (1d20)

Lets go

Well, they did get better this time,, maybe things aree improvng.

>>683245
Hell Yes!

File: harvestmoon1.jpg (47 KB, 564x378)

47 KB JPG

>>683141
>I have to go get dinner for my family. I shall return shortly. Please behave whilst I am gone!

>>683245
A good roll! Good job!

>>683237
>>683251
>>683254
Don't worry. I'm here to save the day.

>>683273
Well, you must have made better sacrifices after the last thread. Something you did made the Dice Gods happy recently

I find it funny nobody seems curious why she's suddenly here in the first place.

>>683492
She's the sacrifice we need for the Harvest Goddess.

>>683492
I'm curious, but i figure this bit of plot will unravel itself shortly.

>>683492
clearly

>>683534
She IS the Harvest Goddess, her mortal incarnation born after witnessing grandfather's green thumb and wishing to personally observe it!

.....except that by the time a mortal incarnation grows up, the farmer in question is already old. Gods, they always get that one thing wrong...

>>683611
I call it a good theory. I like the way it sounds.

File: Ero and Peaceful.png (268 KB, 624x528)

268 KB PNG

>>683611
>>683619
[I'm back]
[Fascinating speculation going on, here. That's the kind of thing I like to see.]

[Note: This scene has now made me look at Mayor Thomas as a sort of Kensei Ma character. I did not originally plan this scene, but it has made things more fun. Let the world be more ero (and peaceful). ]

>>683685
I like the way the scene happened, a little carrot and a little stick (so to speak, heh) with those low rolls. We do have a goddess to appease after all.

>>683611
So wait, you saying Tara is the Harvest Goddess? Or is the Harvest Goddess just disguised as Tara currently inside our home? Kinda hoping it's the second one if this is the case

>>683809
for some reason, i was leaning towards the second, just as an alluring disguise, something else to tempt us into staying on the land.

>>683492
My guess is she has been using the house so that she doesn't have to shower / etc at home. Being only a Father and Daughter living on their own.

>>683887
So breaking and entering then. Got it.

Maybe she just wants to give us a warm welcome.

File: tara3.jpg (212 KB, 800x1067)

212 KB JPG

>>683141

A small, sensible part of your mind insists that you find shelter - “Retreat," it says to you, "before Tara looks over and discovers your accidental wrongdoing!” Unfortunately, the lower parts of your brain, the primordial caveman inside you, seems to be holding on to this moment. You feel yourself unable to pull away...

“JACKY!” Comes a whispered hiss. “Get a hold of yourself, man!” This, this urgent plea from your newfound friend and mayor, is your salvation. Your attention snaps to Thomas. He has freed you from the trance. “RUN! FLEE! HIDE YOURSELF!”

You look around, but you feel it is for naught. There is nowhere that you can hide yourself before Tara sees you. And she will. And she will tell everyone in town that you are a pervert. Your pulse races. Sweat pours down your forehead. It’s like the South China Sea all over again.

Thomas reaches out, grabs your sleeve, and pulls you down to the ground behind two sparse blackberry bushes. The two of you, compatriots, hide behind those bushes together. You find your center, calm yourself, and go silent. Looking over to Thomas, you see that the small mustachioed man is praying. He holds his hat on the ground in front of him.

You, too, pray.

>18

Your prayers are answered. From your vantage point you are reasonably sure that Tara never looks over and sees the two of you. You are safe - for now.

----

After Tara left the window you and the mayor hurried off back to the front of the house. There, you caught your breath in a momentary reprieve. You, personally, were panting and laughing in the same breath which came out in a rasping wheeze. Thomas, too, could not contain himself and was laughing so hard he was red in the face and short of breath.

“We did it, my boy! We did it! Stormed the gates! Secured victory! Leapt into the abyss and lived to tell the tale! We are heroes!” gasps Thomas, a victorious tear in his eye. “Heroes, Jacky! For all mankind!”

Part of you feels the Mayor is a crazy old man, but part of you is bemused by his antics and can’t help but find his excitement infectious. You clasp his hand and determinedly announce to him:

“We shall carry this glorious memory to our graves! As brothers!”

“Yes, Thomas! We shall carry it in our hearts always, my lad!” He laughs triumphantly. “And, in the days to come, I shall show you all the glorious views this land has to offer! Together!”

“Teach me your ways, Mayor!”

----

Whether it is because of the noise the two of you were making, or whether it was because she was simply heading outside on her own, Tara eventually walks onto the front porch, hands on hips, and stands there with a confused, perhaps concerned, expression on her face. She’s never seen the Mayor dance a jig in the middle of the day outside of the town square on festival days. Perhaps he’s caught the Fiddle Fever?

----

>cont. 1/3

File: Tara2.png (498 KB, 827x742)

498 KB PNG

>>684115

When you spot Tara you give the mayor a swift pat on the back before point clandestinely towards the front porch. He stops, looks at you, looks at the porch, and then gives a strained, forced laugh.

“Tara! Ah! What a surprise to find you here!” The two of you try to muster innocent smiles.

Tara, however, seems to find the surprise less than pleasant - and that worries you. The brunette crosses her arms underneath her chest, which causes her overalls to bunch up in a spot that you (decidedly) must not stare at. She cocks her hip and head in a way that either says “I’m not sure what the two of you chucklefucks are up to, and I’m not sure if I want to know,” or "you guys are not who I wanted to see right now." Again, you're unsure.

“I could ask the same of you, mayor. I see you brought Jacky? Here to tour your new vacation home?” Her tone is dangerously close to confrontational, but still in the realm of joking. You frown a bit.

“Tara? This is Jacky’s new home. He's not vacationing. He shall be residing her permanently. Yes." The mayor smooths out the wrinkles on the front of his vest. "I’ve been told you’d met, already? Jacky said you gave him a ride into town. That was very kind of you and Franc.” Thomas gives a hopeful smile to the two of you. Tara keeps the slightly-sour look on her face. You try to smile back.

“Of course,” replies Tara. She marches stiffly down the porch steps towards you, “That’s what folk do around here. We take care of each other - we take care of things, the land, our family. Especially our family." She gives a harsh smile. "You’re welcome for the ride, Jacky.”

Again - she’s challenging you. What is her problem? Who spit in her oatmeal?

“Tara- is something wrong?” The mayor, unlike you, is more nervous than frustrated. “Did we, uh, did the two of us do something to upset you?” Ah. He must have come to the conclusion that Tara knows what happened a few minutes ago. “You seem a trifle… irritated this morning. Did you sleep well?”

>cont. 2/3

File: tara5.jpg (93 KB, 383x515)

93 KB JPG

>>684127

“I slept fine, Mayor,” says Tara, a forced smile on her face. “I simply came to the farm early this morning to work. You know, to work like I always do.” She’s at the end of the path now, and she faces you with a determined look. Her jaw is tense, her fists balled on the cotton of her thin shirt. “Like I always did, with Roger. While he was still here - and I was helping. On his farm.”

You didn’t realize she worked the Richmond farm. You figured she worked solely with Franc. But, by the way she purposefully emphasized “his farm,” you think you know what this is about, now. It's not the window - it's about you. You living here.

“Tara,” once again begins the mayor, “I know just as well as you that this is Roger’s farm. But Roger left it to Jacky - his grandson. And, by the will, Jacky is to stay here and work the farm. Is there a problem with that?”

Tara blows a bit out of the corner of her mouth and looks at the rough-gravel fill of the path beneath her. She kicks at the ground a bit. You wait for her answer, as does Thomas.

“Yeah, no, I mean, look…” She stumbles over her words. “Thomas, is he actually going to work the farm? This- this farm,” she looks up now, visibly upset, and gestures out around her. “This is important. It’s not just, y’know, a farm. It’s Roger’s farm and it’s his land and his work. And my work. It takes work, Thomas - Jacky - and how do we know…” Tara shakes her head a bit, “how do I know Jacky is even going to take care of this place? He’s not a farmer. Are you, Jacky? Are you a farmer?”

She looks at you. Her eyes are alight with defiance. “I just don’t understand how you can waltz up in here and take the place, show up here like it’s yours!”

You’re taken aback. Thomas is surprised but looks like he has a few things he wants to say.

A. “No, I’m not a farmer.”
B. “I’m going to become a farmer - like my grandfather.”
C. “Tara, what’s your problem with me?”
D. “Well, if I'm not a farmer then what do I look like to you?”
E. “This farm IS mine!”
F. “I don't understand how you can waltz into my grandfather's home like it's yours!”
G. Write-in

>>684167
>A. “No, I’m not a farmer.”
>But as you could probably tell from my luggage, I don't plan on being a soldier here.
>I'll become a farmer. If it doesn't work out, maybe fishing. Or maybe mining. But I want to try out that thing my grandfather did all his life first.

>>684167
Hopefully with your help, I can become a great one.

>>684167
D. “Well, if I'm not a farmer then what do I look like to you?”
C. “Tara, what’s your problem with me?”

wait for her answer


A. “No, I’m not a farmer.”
B. “I’m going to become a farmer - like my grandfather.”

After all the shit i went through in the war i just want to settle the fuck down and learn an actual goddamn useful trade, is that so wrong of me? Is it so wrong of me to want to improve myself as a person, to try to cope with the shit i had to deal with?

If it is then, thats fine, you don't have to respect my reasons for wanting to make this place better, to make it work for a home since i have nothing else. I have no problem with you working here, but i want the same thing you do, believe me; breathing some life back into this place, for myself and the town and whatever other reason i keep finding to make myself better.

>>684189
I'll back this.

>>684167
>A. “No, I’m not a farmer.”

>G. but my grandfather left it to me, not you or anyone else and i'll do what i want here.

This bitch is pissing me off.

>>684167
>>684189
Pretty much this. If she doesn't like that answer, sucks to be her. We came to give this new life a try. She doesn't like it, she can stay home.

I have a feeling she just thinks of us as some damn babykiller soldier, we need to give her a system shock and show her that we want to be better than she thinks we may have been.

>>684167
[Had to work on something for a bit; sorry about that. The responses thus far are great! I'm going to let this one sit overnight - I'll throw a response up either tonight or tomorrow morning. This will be the last post for tonight though, folks. Please feel free to post any thoughts, criticisms, discussions, etc.]

[I will continue either tomorrow night or Tuesday night, EST. Thanks for playing!]

>>684371
Thanks for running!

>>684371
Cya soon.

>>684167
Jesus, what a bitch.

File: harvestmoon2.jpg (25 KB, 320x490)

25 KB JPG

[Quick request: If anyone has any artwork they would like to donate or suggest for characters it would be greatly appreciated. That, so far, is the one thing I am having the hardest time putting together. Perhaps I need to work on my image-searching.]

File: BadLuckBlackCat.png (101 KB, 500x350)

101 KB PNG

>>684580
>>684597
[Thanks! Clearly anon has a thing for barmaids.]

>>684655
really the only appropriate ones for this quest, the rest tend to have weapons and this is way more slice of life. Also, no elves or dwarves.

File: Plain.Doll..jpg (641 KB, 1392x720)

641 KB JPG

>>684804
here's a happier version.

I'll update the thread at 10, 12, and 3 EST today.

>>686579

"Tara," begins the mayor, his nose and whiskers twitching angrily and finger pointed at Tara, "This is inappropriate! Your rudeness is unwarranted, and you are disrespecting Roger's wishes!"

Tara begins to retort but you step in, cutting both of them off.

You’re frustrated but you attempt to rein in your temper. "Tara? What's your problem with me? I'm not just waltzing in and taking the farm - my grandfather left it to me. It’s the family farm, and it should stay in the family, right?”

She gives you a long, cold stare. “I just want Richmond’s to be taken care of, and Roger trusted me to take care of this place. He said so to me.” You stare back and stand your ground.

You sigh. “I want to take care of it. I promise." You try to breathe through the soft anger simmering in your chest. You want to start out on the right foot with everyone in the valley - including Tara, even though she's being a bitch.

“No, I’m not a farmer. Not yet. But, as you could probably tell from my luggage,” and you gesture to the overstuffed bags left on the ground by the car, “I'm not a soldier anymore, either. And I don't plan on being a soldier here. I'll become a farmer - like my grandfather. Like Roger."

You look Tara straight in the eyes and try - really try - to communicate to her that you're serious. You want this; you want Sunnyvale.

"Roger," she softly says, "Was a really good farmer. A good person. Really good." She's tearing up a bit, and this seems to both mollify her anger but also make it worse at the same time. She pulls out a bandana and rubs it over her eyes, muttering about how she's "not supposed to cry," and something about “jackasses.”

"Yeah, he was always a good guy, Tara. And I'm sure he was a good farmer." You give a shrug. "If it doesn't work out, maybe I'll try fishing; or maybe mining. But I want to try out that thing my grandfather did all his life first. I think I owe it to him. Don’t you?"

>>686680

Her anger bubbles up again. "Owe it to him?" With her palm pressed to her eye she tries to hide her crying; a few tears escape her efforts. "Jacky, you weren't even here when he was sick. He was really sick! He was dying! For a long time! Tell him, Thomas. Tell him how hard it was watching Roger go."

"I know that, now. I was in-"

"I was here, Jacky!" Her next words are lost in a sob. She tries again. "I didn't want to- to watch him die, but I came. Every day. He talked," she takes a deep breath; "He talked about you all the time. All the time. He loved you, and you didn't even come see him."

You throw your hands in the air. "I was overseas, Tara! I wanted to be here - you think I wanted to be over there getting shot at? Surrounded by people dying? Away from the only family I had left? Away from my grandfather? He” god, you don’t even know where to begin, “he didn't even tell me he was sick... I didn't even know! I wrote him every day. All the time. He meant a lot to me. He was the only thing that kept me going sometimes! I didn’t choose to be over there, I was drafted. I didn’t start the war! It’s not my fault!"

You repeat that a few times; to yourself? To Tara? To your grandfather, in hopes that he’ll forgive you? You’re not sure. You don’t even notice it when you start crying some, too. You turn away from Tara and Thomas and run your hands through your hair. They don’t need to see this; they don’t need to see the things you’ve failed to deal with.

You and Tara spend the next few minutes without speaking, but the silence is constantly broken by swears in your case or crying in Tara’s. Thomas is respectfully quiet but tries to soothe Tara with some words.

>Cont. 2/4

>>686684

You’re not sure how much longer it is until Tara finally says something.

"He meant a lot to me, too." She says with her eyes cast downward. She's still angry, but it's not meant as a challenge towards you. Her words are stiff, but it seems more like she doesn't know how to handle the loss. Maybe you don't, either. "I just don't want it all to go away. I don't want anyone to take all this," she gestures to the house, the yard, the old barn, and the old trees that are ever-looming and ever-listening - even as you espouse just how hurt you both really are. “It’s all we have left of him, Jacky. That’s it.” You sigh. Tara goes quiet and sits on the bottom of the steps leading off the porch.

"Stupid war; stupid dying," mumbles Tara, her eyes back to her hands once more. "Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why? Y'know, just... Why? Why did Roger have to die? Why did my parents? Why do people have to die?" She looks to the Mayor, then to you, then back once more. She looks for answers, but none are within sight.

"Tara," offers Thomas softly and kindly, "Loss is a part of life. The Harvest Goddess takes each of us in our own time and she ushers us away, just as she ushers us to the Earth when we are first born. It was Roger's time, my girl. You find yourself hurting now because he was a beloved friend. It is precisely because something is important to us that we miss it. This pain, while terrible and something I wish I could take from you in this moment, my dear, is an important reminder of your loss. It is an important reminder of how special Roger was to each of us. You must never forget what he gave you in his time, but you must also learn to live with that pain."

All Tara can offer is a weak "mm-hm." Thomas rubs her back, and she gives him a short hug before standing up once more. You wait, quietly, and you look to the sky above. Perhaps that really is where grandfather went - and maybe he's looking down on you even now. A cool breeze blows across the yard; you feel it on your face, and you close your eyes. You breathe.

>Cont. 3/4

>>686686

It is Tara that breaks you out of the moment. "Jacky?”

“Yeah?”

“I'm sorry, I guess. I assumed the worst. That you would take the farm and sell it, or something. Or not take care of it. I really love this place, and Roger's life here was everything to him." You look at Tara, overalls dusty and cheeks wet. The sun streams out from behind her and catches on her dark hair.

"Tara, I just want to settle down and learn something useful. Is it so wrong of me to want to improve myself as a person?" She shakes her head. "And maybe even cope with what I had to deal with? Can’t I do that here? I don’t have anywhere else to go, Tara."

"I can't bring my grandfather back, and I can't undo what happened to him. You don't have to respect my reasons for wanting to make this place better, but I think I have the same reasons and want the same thing as you: I want to breathe some life back into this place, for myself and the town. I want this, I promise."

She tries to smile a bit at that.

"I think I owe it to Roger to believe you. And you. But, Jacky, you're not a farmer - yet. I don't see it in you. You're going to need a lot of help, or this place will go to ruin in no time. I can't sit back and watch you turn Richmond farm into a paradise of weeds and thistles."

You decide to humor her. "You could give me some more credit! But, well, I guess you’re right. Maybe I can become a great farmer with your help; with everyone's help." You cross your arms and fix Tara with a stern look. "I have no problem with you working here if you're getting at that, I guess. But I think we need to come to an understanding. You can't just assume the worst in me, for starters."

She puts her hands on her hips and casts an appraising gaze over you. "Hmph," she mutters. "Understanding, huh? Well, maybe I'd work with you. Maybe. But you have to show me you're serious, first.”

You’re not going to accept that so easily. “Or, you could believe me at my word.”

She’s not budging. “A challenge, okay?"

You give her a skeptical look. "What kind of challenge?"

"It’s the beginning of Spring and the field needs to be worked if we’re going to plant.” You notice she said “we,” but you don’t say anything. “Whoever can till their half of a field first, wins." She mimes going at the soil with a hoe. "You know how to work a hoe don't you soldier?" You chuckle at the innuendo, but you're not sure if Tara gets it.

The mayor steps up between the two of you. "Well, I'm pleased that we're not in an angry sorts anymore, at least. Still, there's no sense in challenging Jacky like this, Tara. He hasn’t farmed like you – this competition hardly seems fair."

"Aw, come on. It'll be fun." She smiles and offers you her hand. "What do you say? You beat me and I'll respect you and the fact that you own the farm now. And maybe I’ll even help you out on the farm."

A. And if you win?
B. Deal
C. No Deal
D. Write-in

>>686693
B. Deal
A. And if you win?

>>686693
A. And if you win?

>>686693
>A. And if you win?
Mayor is right, this is a terribly lopsided challenge. Someone who does something for a living vs someone who has never done it? Might as well challenge a blind man to 'I Spy'.
Though it'll probably turn out to be a case of 'we don't have to win, we just have to try'.

>>686713
I think you're right in that guess, we probably just have to show we give enough shits to take care of the farm if she wasnt here, even if we arent the best at it.

Prise the Mayor! I can still post in this thread~~

>>686693
B. Deal
A. And if you win?

>>686735
[There's an equal split for "deal" and "ask for more details" so I'll do a small update before asking you chickens[\spoiler] to confirm. ]

>>686759

You’re about to take her hand and shake on it but you hesitate at the last second. “And if you win, Tara? What do you get?”

Tara looks sideways at the mayor who is standing nearby, tall hat on his head, looking hopeful. A sly smile creeps onto Tara’s face before she leans towards you and, with a hushed voice, says “if you lose you have to run through downtown one evening this season – butt naked. Hope you run fast, soldier boy!”

You give her a shocked look before looking at the mayor. He couldn’t hear Tara and looks expectant, like he’s waiting for you to tell him what Tara said. You don’t say anything to him yet. Tara still has that smug look on her face. She doesn't know that you run pretty fast, but do you really want the townsfolk thinking you're a pervert?

A. Negotiate your bid down (requires a write-in)
B. Negotiate her bid up (requires a write-in)
C. Deal
D. No deal

>>686778
B. Negotiate her bid up (requires a write-in)

So i have to run naked (not as embarassing as you think, more like stride of pride that shit) if i can't plow as fast as someone that's been doing this her whole life and if i win, i get... help on the farm.

Maybe you should have to streak across the town yourself if you lose.

>>686778
C. Deal

>>686778
>C. Deal
>If you wanted to look at my junk, you could have just asked
>start hoeing before she can reply

>>686787
Shit, that may be better, taunt her back and just get started. I will change my vote to this.

>>686778
I'll update soon; feel free to vote if you haven't already.

For what it's worth, I'm posting via phone from my office. Apologies about any delays or formatting issues.

Make your sacrifices now and prepare to roll for the challenge.

>>686778
>>686787
Ha. It might be dirty, but I like it.

Also, us running naked isn't so much a punishment for us as it is a treat for the ladies, considering how that roll last thread went, eh?

>>686832
Hell, I think we would strut through town. It would be gloriious

>>686839
It'd be glorious all the way to our prison cell.

>>686778
>>C. Deal
>>If you wanted to look at my junk, you could have just asked
>>start hoeing before she can reply
+
B. Negotiate her bid up - she does the SAME thing if SHE loses

File: 550f9495f2b5e.jpg (217 KB, 1200x720)

217 KB JPG

>>686839
>>686842

Army Parade with our majestic FLAG high?

>>686799

“You know what, Tara? You’ve got a deal. So long as you agree to the same stakes - if you lose, you have to run."

She gives you a shrewd look.

"No biggie. Wouldn't be the first time. I accept your terms." And with that, you clasp Tara’s hand firmly and give a good shake. You flash a confident smile.

“I look forward to seeing you on the farm."

Tara lets go of your hand and slides into a determined smirk. “Pretty confident, hm? I’m looking forward to hearing about you running around town. Maybe I'll even hear the laughter all the way at the ranch.” The mayor, oblivious to the true nature of the bet, is still confused.

You gesture towards what you believe is the tool shed. “Just show me where the hoes are.”

>Cont.

>>686894

Tara says it will be “her pleasure,” and the two of you walk on over with the mayor waddling behind you. You and Tara throw a couple verbal jabs at one another but things are civil, for now. It remains to be seen what will happen once you leave her in your dust – and you will. You weren’t idle during your tenure in the service, and even though you couch surfed for a while you never stopped physically training. It was one of the few things that could get your mind out of your darker moments. Tara’s got the home field advantage and experience but you’ve got drive and strength.

“So, Thomas,” you call back to your finely dressed friend. “Would you willing to be the judge for this competition? I don’t want Tara cheating.”

“I don’t need to cheat,” replies Tara as she opens the shed. “I’ve got this down to a science.”

“That’s enough you two,” cuts in the mayor. “Let’s keep this civil, fun, and fair. I’ll gladly be the judge – but after that I need to return to town. I trust you can show Jacky around the property and the house in my stead, Tara?”

She shrugs and rolls her eyes, but she can’t hide the smile playing at her cheeks. “I suppose if it’s for you, Mayor.”

“Excellent. Now then, let’s get this started.”

Tara hands you a rake before the mayor chastises her and tells her to actually hand you the second hoe. You take it, look it over, and can’t help but feel a small bit of pride in your chest. You’re really going to be a farmer on the family farm. And, well, you might as well start your farming career off strong and win this competition! Your pride as a Richmond demands it!

But, first? Time to play dirty. A little. “Say, Tara,” you open, feigned innocence on your voice, “if that’s what you wanted, all you had to do is ask.”

She turns to you, confusion on her face. “What are you talking about, Jacky?”

You lean in close to her. “To get me walking around naked and take a look at my junk, all you had to do was ask.”

A blush hits her cheeks as her jaw visibly clenches, but before she can say or do anything you’re already off, running towards the field at a full sprint. Tara just stands there for a moment, dumbfounded, before she starts calling out to you angrily and runs to the field as well.

The competition begins!

>>686899


>Farming Rules:

>Your total stamina is 200 units and is reset every morning after you rest. An hour’s worth of work, for most activities, consumes up to 25 units. You can expect about 8 hours of work a day with stamina left over.
>One of the farming skills is tilling, or hoeing, the soil. One hour of work, per person, will result in 25 patches of tilled soil.

>Normally, for every hour of farm work you must roll a 1d25 to determine how much stamina you actually consumed for the hour. In this case, we will use a 1d25 roll to determine how many patches of soil Jacky has tilled in a given unit of time. Each roll adds to the cumulative total; reach 50 before Tara does!

>First up: Jacky, who gets a +2 head start because of clever thinking!
>Give me 4 rolls of 1d25 to see how quickly he finishes! (kek)

Rolled 10 (1d25)

>>686903

Rolled 21 (1d25)

>>686903
Let's get to work!

Rolled 15 (1d25)

>>686903

Rolled 8 (1d25)

If we tie, do we streak together?

> 48. Very close, probably close enough.
>Let's see how Tara does... roll number 1

>>686944
And that makes 54! 56 with our +2!

Rolled 11 (1d25)

>>686947
Fucked up the roll. Damn phone.

Rolled 20 (1d25)

>>686953
11 to Jacky's 12! Very close!

>Let's see if you maintain the lead...

>>686960
Again, just one patch short!! What are the odds?!
>Suspense.jpg

>>686963
What the hell? The Dice Gods are enjoying the show too, i would say.

>>686963
>>686968
It is PART of the FUN

>>686963
1/625

>>686976
Oh, it's absolutely fun, i'm just eagerly awaiting the dice!

Rolled 4 (1d25)

>>686960
Alright. Now that we are all on the edges of our seats...

Let's hope she gets 17 or less!

Rolled 19 (1d25)

>>687015
>Jacky wins!
>Congratulations!

>Roll just to see if she finishes anytime soon...
>Post incoming as soon as I'm able

>>687017
So maybe we should get nekkid too? So she isn't alone in it?

A Man should rise his HEAD high

You’re already two yards’ worth of hoeing by the time Tara joins you on the field.

“Thomas said we’re not supposed to play dirty,” yells Tara in-between swings, “you cheater!”

“We’re tilling a field, Tara!” You respond, your arms straining against the wood as you tear the ground before you asunder, “Everything about this is dirty!”

You laugh. Tara groans. The mayor looks on like this is the best thing since Sunday night sports.

After the first ten minutes are up you and Tara are neck and neck – but you’re in the lead, just barely. You have to give Tara credit: she’s got grit and spirit. Every muscle in her body is working towards her goal; her breathing is hard and quick; her eyes are firmly set on the earth around her; and her form is practiced, efficient. But, unfortunately for her, you’ve got the drive and the strength to pull ahead.

The second stretch goes even better for you than the first. You find your form about fifteen minutes into the race and feel your pace increase. For a few moments you feel as if rocks and debris are being thrown around you as if you’re a veritable farming tornado. Yeah, you’re hit in the face once or twice by some of the more aggressively-flying stones, but you shrug it off and keep going. If there’s one thing you know how to do, it’s how to keep going. One foot in front of the other, just keep on moving onwards and upwards, Jacky.

Your months of aimless wandering from bed to bed in the States, years of service, the pain of shipping out and the anguish at not knowing what to do when you shipped in… It all flows away, and all that remains is the work in front of you: The present. The challenge. Victory.

Tara, for all her confidence, keeps pace with you. You hear her grunts and swears. You hear the repeated “shh-k-thunk, shh-k-thunk” of her repetitions. You know without looking that she’s hot on your heels. But, you know the distance between you is growing, albeit slightly. She’s losing ground. You’ve got this.

>Cont.

>>687242

It’s the third stretch where your victory is really set. Tara loses steam, and your physical conditioning allows you to keep going strong even after she slows down to a quarter of her earlier pace. Where she slows, you go even faster. It’s all but over. But, to your surprise, that doesn’t stop her from urging her body to move, to swing, to beat you. She never gives up.

Shortly after the thirty minutes are up you do it: you finish your side of the field. You’ve won.

Thomas congratulates you, and you thank him, but then you look over to Tara. She hasn’t stopped, and she’s only increased her pace once more. Her hair is plastered to her neck and face by sweat and one of her shoulder straps has fallen off her frame, revealing the thin white cotton underneath. The strap sways by her side, forgotten, because for Tara, like you, all that matters in this moment is the work. Nothing else. You watch, slightly impressed, as she pulls and throws the hoe in the rhythm of her work. The hoe is lifted up and around before crashing back into the earth. It is wielded confidently and elegantly, like an extension of her own body. Again, again, and again Tara steps, raises the implement up and around, throws it downwards, and then glides back while simultaneously pulling with her arms and her core.

The combination of the motions comes together wonderfully, as if she was born to do it. You have to respect that, even if it’s just a little. Even if she’s been undeservedly rude to you.

You take up your hoe and walk over to Tara’s side of the field; you join her, starting on the opposite side, and help her to finish the remaining stretch of untilled earth. Something just tells you that you should do it. Maybe you’re just a sucker for doing the nice thing.

In the end, you both stumble to the side of the field where the waterspout stands, ready and waiting to quench your stinging, desperate thirst. You take turns pumping for the other and, after you have both had your fill of the cool water, you each fall to the ground to rest. Tara looks over to you. You’re not quite sure what she’s thinking.

>Cont.

>>687253

The mayor walks over and gives a short applause for both of you.

“That was a wonderful display by all parties! I am very impressed, both of you.” You and Tara both offer your thanks; the endorphins racing through your systems show up in large, bright smiles. “Admirable job! However, with that said, it is my pleasure to award the victory to Jacky. A victory well-earned from our new farmer!” The mayor then pulls out a small, golden sticker in the shape of a star and hands it to you. You hold back your laughter for the moment and thank the short, earnest man. He smiles beneath his bushy, boisterous facial hair.

“Unfortunately, I must depart.” Thomas gives a short bow. “I must ask each of you, though, to not murder the other; to treat the other with respect; and to work your hardest in restoring this farm to the glory it deserves. Can I trust the two of you with that?” You both nod.

“Excellent.” The mayor claps his gloved hands and then turns away. With short, deliberate strides he moves towards his car. “Then, I take my leave.” The two of you remaining watch contentedly from your place amongst the delicate blades of grass.

Tara weakly punches you in the shoulder. “Congratulations, newbie.” She laughs. “Guess you kicked my ass.” You look to Tara and she has an expectant look on her face. There’s a moment of quiet before she finally explains.

“I’m surprised you’re not gloating more. I would be, if I had won. I guess… I guess that’s just me being a jerk again.” She shakes her head and looks away. “Whatever. Good win, newbie.”

A. I’m saving the gloating for later.
B. Yeah, you have been a jerk to me. Why don’t we try and start over?
C. Well, that’s where we differ. I’m nice.
D. Yeah, I kicked your ass. And now? You have to show your ass to everyone else in town.
E. ((Do a victory dance))
F. Ask what the two of you should do now; should you sow some seeds or something?
G. Offer to hit the showers
H. Write-in

F. Ask what the two of you should do now; should you sow some seeds or something?

>>687255
>F. Ask what the two of you should do now; should you sow some seeds or something?

>>687255
Why don’t we try and start over?

F. Ask what the two of you should do now; should you sow some seeds or something?

>>687255
>F. Ask what the two of you should do now; should you sow some seeds or something?

>>687255
>F. Ask what the two of you should do now; should you sow some seeds or something?

>>687255

>[Question: does anyone feel there is something I can implement or change in the quest that would help you, the players, to take a greater role in developing Jacky's character?]

>[Should I offer more prompts? Should we have a vote on his characterization? Or, Do you guys think I'm doing an okay job with it? Thanks for your input!]

>>687314
I like the way it works so far, you've explained enough when new mechanics get introduced. I'm having fun, thats the main part, and as long as the others are too, i say its a good job overall.

>>687314
it's all good so far, this is only the second thread so not much should be developed yet, we'll build jacky as a person via his actions.

File: harvestmoon4.png (629 KB, 666x500)

629 KB PNG

>>687348
>>687333
[Thank you for your input.]

>>687255
[I'm finally home and at my computer. Time to write.]

>>687314
>6 prompts
>Should I offer more prompts?
can't tell if you're being sarcastic here

>Should we have a vote on his characterization?
no, this is just right

>>687255
>you know, you can skip the whole running through town naked thing; Seems kind of pointless if I'm going to be busy working here.

>>687519
>Should I offer more prompts?
[That's meant as "more prompts" or "more opportunities to reply/choose the response." I hope that clarifies.]

>>687525
Ah. Well, you're doing fine there too.

The grieving part winded a bit long, but it's not like you could put in a prompt in between besides PRESS F TO PAY RESPECTS.

File: The Seeds of a New Life.jpg (120 KB, 1600x1059)

120 KB JPG

>>687255

You decide to brush Tara’s comments under the rug. You look over to the newly-tilled field and, in that moment, really see what the two of you just accomplished. A hundred square yards or so worth of tilled earth.
Time to sow the seeds, or something.

You stand up and stretch a bit. “Hey, Tara?” Your questions surprises her a bit. She had settled into the silence. “We should start sowing seeds now, right?” She nods.

“And then we water them - every day. You ready for that? Well, then let’s see if there’s anything in the seed storage.”

----

The seed storage is a selection of sealed chests in the main shed. You and Tara rummage about the old, weathered bags and come up with…

>Roll 1d10. We’ll take best of three.
>Then, roll 1d100 for seed mystery box. Best of one.
>We will be purchasing seeds later, no doubt.

Rolled 3 (1d10)

>>687593
Hoping for something good!

Rolled 9 (1d10)

>>687593

>>687605
Nice!

Rolled 4 (1d10)

>>687593
okay grandpa, where did you keep your GMO monstrosities...

Rolled 7 (1d10)

>>687593

Rolled 17 (1d100)

i'll just do the d100 now I guess?

Rolled 35 (1d100)

>>687593

>>687624
I regret my decision immensely

>>687624
Really?

File: harvestmoon5.jpg (84 KB, 630x473)

84 KB JPG

>>687624
[Thanks! Too bad it wasn't as good as the roll for dick size ]

>Writing

>>687624
Well... maybe it's a random chart, not just low roll=shit loot. One can hope.

>>687659
I bet it's Turnips

>>687673
Yeah, i was thinking it would be too, i'm just trying to be more positive than normal.

File: Storage Shed 2.jpg (180 KB, 920x690)

180 KB JPG

>>687593

You pull out a sizable burlap sack filled with either small rocks or...

“Hey, Tara?” You open the bag and show her the contents. She does a tiny fistpump. “I think we’ve got potatoes!”

“That means we’re in business! How many are there?”

You count off 9, which is more than Tara expected to find (nothing) but a lot less than you are going to have to plant if you’re going to get this farm off the ground.

“Alright, newbie, follow me and I’ll show you how to plant these golden suckers. You’ve got to pile up the ground around the tops…”

Tara shows you how to correctly space the potatoes for optimal growth and coverage. You don’t really talk whilst working; it’s all “shop,” so to speak. You get your hands dirty and bury the potatoes, next. Then you leave Tara to find a scarecrow - she wears there’s one around here, somewhere - while she tamps the ground a bit.

You search around the shed for a frayed, aging scarecrow with a “face that will make you think twice about farming,” according to Tara.

While you're shuffling around some tarps an urgent, frantic scratching noise catches your attention. You figure it must have been something shifting under the tarp, maybe an old box finally falling apart completely.

>Roll 1d20 to find the scarecrow and investigate the ???, best of 3

While searching you move aside an old, ratty box. One of the top flaps shifts and you see what looks to be a bunch of papers covered in handwriting. You blow away some dust and open up the box to discover it’s all of the letters you sent to your grandfather over the years. It puts a smile on your face to see that he kept all of them. You tuck away the box carefully and make a mental note to come back for the box someday soon.

Rolled 19 (1d20)

>>687705
Searching!

Rolled 2 (1d20)

>>687705

Rolled 3 (1d20)

>>687705

Rolled 20 (1d20)

>>687705

>>687724
darn, just out of range, ah well a 19's good too.

File: image.png (28 KB, 300x300)

28 KB PNG

>>687724

>>687724
Well, almost! Awesome roll otherwise.

File: harvestmoon6.jpg (55 KB, 564x423)

55 KB JPG

>>687733
[Tough luck! 19's still great, though.]

>writing

File: Horrorcrow.jpg (226 KB, 300x450)

226 KB JPG

>>687744

You move aside a tarp draped in the far corner of the shed and are given a face full of dust for your efforts. When everything settles you poke around and are pleased with what was hidden underneath. You find a great length of garden hose, a box full of what looks to be parts for an old electric engine, and, thankfully, the ratty old scarecrow. It leers at you with a face that is one part Picasso portrait, one part horror movie, and three parts “Please, kind sir, kill me now.”

You’re sorely tempted to put the poor guy out of his misery and just make another. Maybe Tara can show you how to make a new one? Or, at the least, help you burn this demonic effigy?

A. Put the horrorcrow out of his misery
B. Keep the horrorcrow. You can’t just kill people because they’re ugly.

You decide that you'll need the horrorcrow for today, at least, and so you drag your finds out of the shed and haul the horrorcrow in particular over to Tara. She takes a one look at its face and flinches.

“By the Goddess, Jack, I forgot how,” she pauses here, perhaps looking for the word with the right amount of vehemence, “unholy that thing looked. Ugh. We might need to get Gwen to exorcise it or something, y'know?” She turns away and shivers in disgust. “At least it will scare the crows.”

“If this guy doesn’t scare the crows then nothing will, Tara.” You laugh as you drag it towards the field to be set up. “Who made this, anyways?”

“I think I did, to be honest, when I was maybe,” she audibly searches through her memory, “I think I was fifteen? I don’t know what I was thinking. Maybe I had inhaled some turpentine fumes in the shed or something.”

You set up the horrorcrow with little difficulty.

“Now then, Jacky,” starts Tara. “Do you want to go to town to purchase more seeds? Or, do you want to tour the property and house first?”

A. Tour the house first
B. Tour the property first
C. Go buy some seeds
D. Write-in

>>687858
>B. Keep the horrorcrow. You can’t just kill people because they’re ugly.

>B. Tour the property first

>>687858
B. Keep the horrorcrow. You can’t just kill people because they’re ugly

B. Tour the property first

>>687858
>>B. Keep the horrorcrow. You can’t just kill people because they’re ugly.
>>B. Tour the property first

>>687858
>B. Keep the horrorcrow. You can’t just kill people because they’re ugly.

>B. Tour the property first
May as well see what we're working with.

>>687858
B, its our grandfathers.
B wasnt there a animal somewhere?

File: Tara.jpg (97 KB, 250x500)

97 KB JPG

>>687858

You toss your options around in your head a bit. Buying seeds is important, but can wait. You don't even know how you'll get over there, yet. The house can wait, too. You have all night to check that out. That leaves the grounds.

“I’d like to see the property first and get to know what we’re working with.” If you're going to be running around working you had better know your territory. After all, there seem to be things to see, uncover, fix, and discover around every corner. It would be best to take a whole tally of your holdings so you can properly prioritize. Take stock of the situation, soldier! Funny how that's still true, even on a farm instead of a battlefield.

Tara begins walking. You follow.

Something catches your train of thought, though.

“Uh, Tara? Do you know if something lives in the tool shed?”

“Lives in the shed? Other than that terrible scarecrow?”

You gesture towards the shed, now closed, standing on its lonesome in the field to the West. “I definitely heard something moving around. At least, I’m pretty sure I did.”

Tara waves her hand dismissively and continues her pace. “A lot of rodents and things live around here, Jacky. It was probably just a mouse. But…" Then she stops, finger to her chin. "In the future, if you see a raccoon, watch out!" She turns around quickly, hands held like claws, as if to scare you.

"That’s Rocky, and he’s a tricky little pain in the ass. He’ll swipe whatever he can get his paws on, and he’s only friendly to me. Most of the time.”

“You’ve made friends with a thieving raccoon that’s a pain in the ass?”

“What?” Tara looks at you curiously. “You think I should be worried? Rocky's harmless. Mostly.”

“Nope. I was actually worried about the raccoon," Tara laughs a bit at that. She only found that mildly offensive, "but it sounds like you two are a perfect fit.”

Tara throws you the bird. You give her a thumbs up.

----

Tara takes you to the left and around the farmhouse and points out the toolshed first.

“We've already been in the toolshed. It's great for holding things - but it’s way too full. And unorganized. I have no idea what’s in there right now, so it will have to be cleaned someday. That’ll take a few hours. A long few hours, so let's get that done before Summer, okay?" Tara looks back to you and you nod. You have no problem working in the heat, snow, whatever, but you get her point.

"Just thinking about cleaning that out in Summer makes me sweat."

"It gets that hot here?"

"It can. We'll have to wear hats, and make sure you drink your water in the Summer. I don't want you dying of heatstroke and leaving this place to be sold off." She throws a stern look in your direction. "Understand, newbie?"

A. It almost sounds like you care about me, Tara. Almost.
B. Ask how many days until Summer hits.
C. Ask where you can buy a good shade hat.

>>688107
>B. Ask how many days until Summer hits.
>C. Ask where you can buy a good shade hat.

>>688107
>A. It almost sounds like you care about me, Tara. Almost.

>>688107
A. It almost sounds like you care about me, Tara. Almost.
B. Ask how many days until Summer hits

>>688107
>A. It sounds like you care about me, Tara. Almost.

>>688107
>B. Ask how many days until Summer hits.
>C. Ask where you can buy a good shade hat.

File: Coop1.jpg (34 KB, 450x264)

34 KB JPG

>>688107

Tara beckons you forward. “Well, let’s keep moving, Farmer.”

“Wait,” you say, and Tara stops and turns towards you. “Tara, a moment ago it almost sounded like you care about me." You place a hand to your heart. "I’m touched. Really.”

She gives you a deadpan look but she can’t keep a straight face for long - she softly pushes you away while muttering something about "Richmond's" and "idiots."

“Whatever, just buy a hat and stay alive. I think even you can do that, newbie.”

“Stop calling me that - and where can I buy a hat? The general store?”

“Nah, get your clothes from Cocoa. I mean, that's what I would do. Cocoa sews her own stuff and it’s the best. I don't know how she does it - I could never pick up sewing. Always pricked myself."

"But you’ve got 28 days until Summer, so don’t worry.”

“28 days a season, right?” Tara nods and says that you’re "learning after all.”

----

The next building your guide points out is a squat, wide building with holes in the roof. Tara calls it the “Holy Coop.”

You ask Tara if it is “blessed,” but she just shakes her head and laughs. You give her a quizzical look.

“It’s not blessed, it's cursed. It automatically showers any chickens you put in it - but it only works when it rains.”

You grimace. That joke was painful. “See the holes in the roof? That thing has seen better days, y’know? You get it?”

“That was a bad joke, Tara.” You shake your head. “I thought we could be friends after all but I don’t know now.” She just laughs - she must think she’s so funny. “So, I’m guessing chickens don’t like the rain?”

“You’d be right. They’ll get sick if you leave them out in the rain too much, so don’t let that happen. Of course, you don’t have any chickens yet, so you have nothing to worry about until you fix that coop. Oh, and you have to buy some eggs from my uncle, first.”

You keep on moving north past the house.

Tara points at an open wooden structure with stone supports. A few of the logs are mossy or rotten, and the stone is worn away in some areas.“This is a hot tub. Roger used to use it a lot once he got old, but the foundation needs to be fixed, the tub has some rust, and you need firewood to run it. It’s great when it’s working, though! Makes you feel one hundred percent even after a long day’s work!”

You fantasize about slipping into hot, steamy water after a long day. It sounds fantastic.

“I’m looking forward to that.”

“Me too, newbie.” Tara’s tone is dreamy, like yours. “Me too.”

A. You're looking forward to me taking a bath? I told you, Tara, you just have to ask.
B. Did my grandfather build all this stuff himself?
C. Where can I get the materials to repair all this stuff?
D. Write-in

>>688276

A. You're looking forward to me taking a bath? I told you, Tara, you just have to ask.

C. Where can I get the materials to repair all this stuff?

>>688276
>B. Did my grandfather build all this stuff himself?
>C. Where can I get the materials to repair all this stuff?

>>688276
>B. Did my grandfather build all this stuff himself?
>C. Where can I get the materials to repair all this stuff?

>>688276
>B. Did my grandfather build all this stuff himself?
>C. Where can I get the materials to repair all this stuff?

>>688276
>B. Did my grandfather build all this stuff himself?
>C. Where can I get the materials to repair all this stuff?
we chose the airforce technician background iirc yeah? hopefully we're good a fixing stuff then.

>>688323
Good point, should be for fixing and crafting if IIRC

File: harvestmoon8.jpg (317 KB, 960x1280)

317 KB JPG

>>688289
[I support the sassy joke options too, anon. Even if the others aren't with us, we must stay strong!]

[One last update and then I'm closing for the night. I'll continue posting during the day tomorrow, most likely. Thanks for playing tonight!]

>>688381
[i thought the joke was a good one. Thanks again for running tonight!]

File: What was whole is now broken.jpg (85 KB, 640x427)

85 KB JPG

>>688381

The two of you, satisfied with your momentary daydreaming, continue to the back-most section of the farm. Tara points toward the North, where there is a narrow break in the thick forest that marks the western and northern boundaries of the farm.

"That's the northern path which leads to the foothills of the mountains. The old mines and caverns are there, and there's the mountain river, too. Cyndie says it's good for fishing. Franc catches some stuff every now and then. I'd head up there or down the other way if you're looking for wood or lumber, both have plenty of trees." You follow her gaze past the fields to the south. "Oh, yeah, there's another path leading south, past the fields. That will take you to our ranch, the lake, and the town's shrine over by the southern woods. Some folks go there on Sundays to pray. I go every so often. They've got a shrine to Roger - you're always welcome to visit with me and pray, or whatever, okay?"

You look north, then south, and resolve to head down both paths sometime in the future. You'll see your grandfather's shrine in particular. You didn't even know he had one. "Thanks, Tara. I really appreciate it."

"Yeah, well, you'll probably really need to pray during these next two years." You meet her gaze, your raised spirits now devolving into a slight frown. "Like, really need to pray. A lot. You know what? I'll pray for you, too. Just to make sure the Harvest Goddess hears how much you need it."

"You can't be nice to me for five seconds, can you?" She shakes her head. "Just show me the rest of the farm, Tara." You grumble a bit, which must be music to Tara's ears because she snickers and walks off. You idly wonder how your grandfather didn't go crazy with her around.

----

“That over there is a compost pile. Throw anything organic in there, wait, and you’ve got fertilizer. It makes your plants grow faster, which is great.”

"So, what? Old plants? Rotten food? Wood? Grass? I can throw manure in, right?"

"Yeah, just make sure you shovel it up. Don't use your hands, or something like that." Tara grimaces and idly wipes her hands on her overalls. "Forage, grass, vegetables, manure, and fish all work well in the compost. Just throw it in and nature'll do the rest in about a week."

----

Finally, Tara takes you to the northwest corner of the property where a large, rectangular stone foundation sits like a solemn monument to the former greatness of the farm. Bits of metal framing stick out like wretched, rusted fingers and a large, fractured pane of glass leans against the least damaged portion of framing. You figure it's a greenhouse - or what's left of it.

“Here…” Tara seizes up a little bit. You see memories pass on her face as she stares at the stone, warped aluminum, and shattered glass. “Here we’ve got the greenhouse. This was one of Roger's favorite places on the farm, his pride and joy. Or, well, that's what it was before that hurricane came through.”

She sighs and shakes her head.

>Cont.

File: tara4.jpg (39 KB, 600x338)

39 KB JPG

>>688587

“The greenhouse was amazing. It was how Roger grew his best plants, and I really want to get it back up and running. It’ll take a long time before we - I mean, you - have enough to restore it, though.” Tara shakes her head and turns away. “He was so sad when we came out and saw it demolished. I wanted to do something, but what can you do?"

"There was nothing you could do, Tara. Storms happen."

"Yeah. You're right. Whatever." Tara's tone is cold and stony again. "Come on. Let’s go.” You see her knuckles are white around the straps of her overalls. She’s really upset about the greenhouse.

"Did my grandfather build the greenhouse himself, Tara?" She doesn't even look at you, though. She just offers a short answer of "sort of."

"Then we can fix it. I used to be a technician in the Air Force - I'm pretty handy, and I know my way around a tool set. I just need the materials, right?"

"And the money, yeah." She replies. You ask her about what you can collect in the area, or at least where you can buy enough glass to make a greenhouse. "You could try to melt it down with Alice's help, I think. Or she can order it for you. Otherwise? The mines and the forest. Grab a pickax, grab an ax, and go to town. Do whatever you want."

"Alright, Tara. I get it." She huffs. "We'll fix everything, I promise, but I need you to keep a clear head, okay? If you want to work here, with me, then we need to work together. I'm not your enemy. I'm here to work, to help."

She lets go of her overalls, which you think is a good sign.

"Yeah." She offers, quietly.

"Yeah? We good, now?"

"Yeah. Sorry. I- I'm sorry. I mean it." That makes you hopeful; that hope is quickly dashed, though. "You're a real pain, sure, but I'll keep positive. It's the least I can do for Roger. Thanks for reminding me of that, Jacky."

"... No problem."

----

Jacky then asks you what you want to do now: get some seeds while you've still got plenty of time in the day? Or, alternatively, you could tour the house first.

A. House
B. Store
C. Other

You're about to answer when your phone goes off; it's Thomas. You had forgotten you had traded numbers. He sent you a text asking if you and Tara had strangled each other yet.

A. Offer that she has a bad attitude but you're not dead, yet.
B. Answer that things are going fine.
C. Confirm that you are dead. RIP.

>>688597
B. Store

B. Answer that things are going fine, no need to worry. Seem to have worked out a plan for the farm too.

>>688615
Oh, then tell her she can show us around the house after the short run into town, we would like it.

>>688597
>B. Store
>B. Answer that things are going fine.

File: Jamie2.png (144 KB, 437x832)

144 KB PNG

[I have to go to bed. I'll miss you guys.]


[I can't wait for that raccoon to make its first appearance.] [And devour Jacky's soul.]

>>688634
[Later, Mayor! I hate that i'll have to miss the thread tomorrow at work. Now i'm also curious about that raccoon too.]

>>688597
>B. Store
>C. Confirm that you are dead. RIP.

>>688597
>B. Store
C. Confirm that you are dead. RIP.

>>688597
>B. Store
I really don't feel the need for her to show the house. There can't be that much to it we wouldn't have remembered from before.

And get around to other things and people

>C. Confirm that you are dead. RIP.

>>688597
>B. Store
>C. Confirm that you are dead. RIP.

This chapter is now archived. Please vote if you are so inclined.

http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Sunnyvale

>>688597
>B. Store
>B. Answer that things are going fine.

>>688597
B. Store
C. you are dead. Ripperoni.

>>688597
>B. Store
>C. Confirm that you are dead. RIP.

[Wasn't able to run today. I'll type out a couple updates and then we'll actually run during the day tomorrow.]

>>691454
Well, thats too bad you couldn't run today, but i'm happy i'm here for the votes tonight.

File: Tara6.png (477 KB, 455x601)

477 KB PNG

>>688597

You begin to march towards the front yard of your new home.“The house can wait; I’m heading to the store. Do you want to come with, Tara?”

“Sure. Don’t want you buying only male turnips or something.”

“There are male and female turnips?”

“No, but it sounds like the truth,” Tara says in between laughs, “right? Can you imagine? Little turnip pe-"

"I'm good," you say, cutting her off, "no need for me to imagine."

----

“Say, instead of walking all the way there… Let’s hitch a ride.”

You look back to your new farming “mentor.” She’s got a mischievous smile on her face. “Like my first night in town?”

“Not quite. Let’s grab a horse from the ranch. Sound good? Or, if we ask really nicely, we can get my uncle to loan us his truck.”

“Are you sure…? I’m fine with walking.” You look at the time, a little after nine in the morning. The walk into town is less than an hour, maybe only half if you keep pace.

“By the way,” you wonder aloud, “Didn’t my grandfather have a truck?”

“Yeah,” Tara looks a little sour about that. “It’s at Alice’s place - it broke down and Roger never got it fixed before he… passed on. I’d talk to Alice about getting it up and running.”

“Sure.” You swear under your breath. “There goes that idea.”

A. Insist on Walking
B. Go to the farm
C. Write-in

>>691543
A. Insist on Walking

It will be a good time to talk to her and pick up tips and tricks of the trade.

>>691543
>B. Go to the farm
Do we get to name the horse?

File: Path1.jpg (124 KB, 640x426)

124 KB JPG

>>691543

"So, you wanna try riding?" You're not sure you like the grin Tara's sporting.

"Something tells me there's more to 'try riding' than you're saying. What kind of horses are we talking about, exactly? Nice ones? Those crazy ones you see at rodeos?"

"Rodeo horses? Huh. That'd be funny to see you ride a bronco like that... I think I'd pay to see that, actually."

"And Franc's horses? Don't dodge the question."

"Ella's nice. We have two for riding - Ella and Emerald. Ella's pleasant, I ride her all the time, but Emerald's nasty as a hornet. Only Franc can ride Emerald. I figured maybe you might want to give it a shot."

"I think I'll pass for now. Let's just walk."

Tara doesn't like the sound of that. "Walk? When we have a perfectly good horse and a truck?"

"Yeah - walk. You're not still exhausted from the farmwork earlier, are you?"

Tara stretches her arms out to the sky and then flops down onto the grass. "I mean, a little. You aren't? I'm not buying that." She looks like a sad puppy; an evil, mean sad puppy.

You gesture for her to stand up. She doesn't budge."Walking's good for you." Again, no response. With no other option left, you grab her hand and pull her up yourself. "Let's go. We can talk on the way there."

Tara groans and kicks a rock down the path. "Walking and talking, too? This whole idea keeps getting better and better..."

----

The walk takes thirty minutes; the road is forgiving, the weather is comforting. About halfway through Tara pulls out a couple of field snack bars. She offers you one, you accept, and a few minutes are spent in a mutually-appreciated silence. After you both finish, however, you get the feeling that the two of you should take this opportunity to talk. You’ll probably be seeing Tara a lot these next two years, after all.

A. “How long have you lived with Franc?”
B. “What do you most enjoy about farming?”
C. What’s your favorite memory of my grandfather?”
D. [Write-ins encouraged]

>>691746
There you go with all these appealing choices again, if >all of the above
isnt a choice, then i'll pick >B. “What do you most enjoy about farming?”

>>691746
>A. “How long have you lived with Franc?”

>>691746
What's there to do around here for fun?

>>691746
>B. “What do you most enjoy about farming?”

File: Maid1.jpg (46 KB, 550x701)

46 KB JPG

>>691841
[Nice question!]

>>691765
>>691834
>>691841
>>691854
[Last update for tonight;does anyone want me to start a new thread tomorrow, or is everyone good with continuing on this thread?]

File: Path2.jpg (4.52 MB, 3648x2736)

4.52 MB JPG

>>691865

Tara doesn't seem to be speaking up anytime soon, and you'd rather not walk the rest of the way in complete, awkward silence...

“So, Tara, what is there to do for fun around here?”

Tara remains quiet, but you can see her give you a sidelong glance. She rolls the thought around in her head a bit.

“The inn is fun. It’s lively. Roger used to play music there, or at the farm on nice nights. Franc and I go camping or to the beach every so often. There’s the library, if you’re into that. Otherwise…? Don’t ask me. I work. I throw myself into my work, then I drink, talk to Franc, or hang out with some of the girls around town."

"Sounds... nice?"

"Hey, maybe you should make some friends? Making friends is good, right?”

“Making friends is good. Allen invited me for cards at… Chaney’s house?”

“‘You've got his name right. He’s Cocoa’s brother. They play cards every week, and Daniel and Terrell show up sometimes, too. Cocoa likes to talk to me about the shit they get up to.” Tara’s eyes stare off into the distance, and she laughs a bit. She’s obviously thinking of some funny stories she’s heard.

“So, if you mostly work on the farm and the ranch,” You taper off a bit, “You enjoy it, right?”

Tara looks surprised you’re even asking. “Of course!”

“Then what do you most enjoy about it?”

“Hm." She thinks a lot on this one. "Putting the seeds down, tending to them, and then watching the plants come up. Or tending to an animal and raising it, and watching as it grows to be independent and really, I don’t know, love you. You can see it in their actions, their expressions..." She looks at you and then stops mid-sentence.

"Whatever, I just like to think I’m bringing some life and happiness into the world. Goddess knows the world's f’ed enough. Might as well…”

“‘Might as well,’ what?”

“Make it better while we’re still here.”

You smile at that. You can't get a good look because she's looking away, but you think Tara smiles a bit, too. “I can agree with that. That's important in life. Doing good, leaving things better than you found them. Let’s all make the world better - together.”

“Yeah, sure, you sound like you're running for president or something." Tara scoffs and lightly pushes you. "Dumbass."

She needs to stop that shit. "I'll push you back, farmgirl. Seriously, how does Franc even put up with you?" She just shrugs.

The sun shines brightly overhead. It's approaching ten, and you'll be in town soon. Your first day is going well, you think.

You think Tara whispers something, but it's lost in the wind.

“Make the world better. Together.”

[End of Chapter 2]

>>691865
I think it's better to not clutter up the board.

New chapter should have a new thread, seems appropriate.